Red on Pink
by Sedentary Wordsmith
Summary: I never wanted my daughter to be a shinobi. She's too young to know what a dying man's eyes look like. -Short one-shot, from Sakura's mother's POV.- Because 12 years old is too young to die.


This was originally going to be Chapter Y of my story Rain Petals, before I decided to change it to something more Sasuke-centr

This was originally going to be Chapter Y of my story Rain Petals, before I decided to change it to something more Sasuke-centric. This focuses more on Sakura and a very underappreciated character: her mother. I know she comes off in the anime as flippant and shallow, but imagine how she must really feel.

So here's to all those parents of shinobi. (Even though most shinobi seem to be orphans…)

**Red on Pink**

I never wanted my daughter to be a ninja.

It is true that the Village Hidden in the Leaves is a shinobi village, and therefore the ninja of the village are treated with the utmost respect and dignity. They are the ones who protect our homes and make a peaceful life possible for the rest of us. To be a ninja is a great honor. To be the parent of a ninja is no less.

But truth be told, I never wanted that honor. I would rather have my little girl safe at home and not have to worry about her than to have that empty acclaim.

But a ninja is what she wanted to be, so I did not stop her. It is an honorable goal, after all.

She is just so young. She started the Academy when she was only eight, and graduated and went on her first real mission when she was only 12. She could have died on that mission. Only 12 years old. That is much too young to die. I know that every mission she goes on, she may not come back from. It is every ninja's parent's worst fear. The knowledge that the time we say goodbye to them in the morning before a new mission may be the last.

I wanted her to be a florist. That way she could simply arrange beautiful flowers all day and never do anything more dangerous than cutting rose stems. But she wanted to be a kunoichi, the strongest and bravest there ever was. Now, instead of bringing home bouquets of roses, she brings home bouquets of blood on her clothes and I hold my breath until she remembers to tell me it is not hers.

I had to pretend not to notice her falling tear petals the first time she scrubbed the blood out of her dress, because I knew she didn't want me saying anything. I never do. I do not tell her how I wring my hands all day on the days when she is gone, or how I watch her sleep when she finally returns. I do not wake her up when I smooth her hair back and kiss away her sleep tears. She is trying so hard to be strong and brave.

But I know she is too young. She shouldn't already know what a dying man's eyes look like. She shouldn't know the best method for getting blood out of clothes. She shouldn't have to worry if her teammates will be returning from the next mission with her, as I worry if she will.

And that boy, Sasuke. The last of the tragic Uchiha clan. She's too young to know what true love is. I saw the anguish that invaded her eyes when he left. That anguish stole away my baby girl, and never really left. She's too young for heartbreak.

Now she's training under Lady Tsunade, the very Hokage and Legendary Sannin herself. I know that my little girl is very strong and only getting more powerful, and can very well take care of herself.

But it doesn't stop me from worrying. It doesn't stop me from seeing the cuts and bruises and the hurt in her eyes when she returns from a difficult mission and I don't even know what nation she's been in. But she smiles at me and tells me she can heal it herself. So I smile and welcome her back and don't tell her I've been worried about her, because she's trying so hard to be strong.

I can cry for her later, after she's asleep, when I still wipe away her own tears.

End. Because seriously. What the heck? They're just little kids, fighting and killing each other! My mother doesn't like me riding a bike without a helmet. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't condone my fighting in a war, especially when I was 12. Imagine what those shinobi parents must go through, knowing their little children may never come home again.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
